


say so

by thenewhope



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-18
Updated: 2007-04-18
Packaged: 2017-10-05 01:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thenewhope/pseuds/thenewhope
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blow jobs and wordplay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	say so

**Author's Note:**

> Written for michellek's [porn tree](http://mmmchelle.livejournal.com/227723.html) in April 2007.

"Of course I know what I'm doing," John says, and moves his head in closer to Ronon's crotch, blocking Ronon's unhelpful hand and getting himself a better look at what needs doing.

"If you say so." There's a hazy note in Ronon's voice that sounds something like the start of laughter, and John is half-sure that if he had a better angle on Ronon's face he'd be seeing Ronon's take on eye-rolling.

Ronon's belt is already unbuckled and off - discarded on the floor somewhere near John's knee - and the only thing keeping his pants from joining it is the stubborn knot the leather ties have gotten caught up in. The mess of string rests just above the swell of Ronon's erection beneath the curve of his pants, and John is having a hard time concentrating.

John presses his hand against the warm leather that covers the inside of Ronon's thigh and squeezes, steading himself, and digs his nails in for good measure. Ronon's hips rock just the that much closer to John's face, and John smiles as he sets to work on the knot.

"I say so," John says, letting the barest bit of a growl underline his words, just as he finishes sorting out the knot. He gives the ties a pull, raking his fingers through the criss-cross of string.

The leather around Ronon's hips loosens, and all it takes is a couple of short, sharp tugs from John before the well-worn pants are sliding down Ronon's legs to pile at his feet.

Ronon hums his appreciation, bending his back in the slightest of stretches that puts his cock right in front of John's face, and it's all John can do to slide his weight back toward his heels and avoid getting an eye poked out. He steadies Ronon's movement with a hand on his hip and a hand on his cock and makes good use of his new position to grin up at Ronon.

Ronon stares back done at him, eyes steady and dark, but John's not fooled. He can feel Ronon's impatience, the slight way he rocks on his feet, pressing the hot flesh of his cock against the loose hold of John's hand. "In a rush?" He tightens his grip into a vice for the barest of seconds, countering the resulting forward push of Ronon's hips with firm pressure from his other hand.

Ronon doesn't flinch, but there's something of a bite behind his words. "That's up to you."

This time the tightening of John's fingers on Ronon's shaft is completely unconscious, a reaction to the sharp way John's toes have curled into the soft surface of the sparring matt. A rush of adrenaline runs through him, and all he can think about is _teeth_ and _heat_ and _fucking_ and _Ronon coming in his mouth_. He wants it - sharp and hard and fast - wants it all.

John has no doubt it could get out of hand, and quick, but he's man enough to admit that's part of what's got his blood pumping so damn hard he can hear it echoing against his temples.

Ronon is still staring down at him, but now there's the barest edge of a smirk on his lips and John is smart enough to recognize the predatory glint sparking through Ronon's eyes and shaping the newly tense lay of his shoulders. It's clear that John is losing some major ground on the control front.

Ronon is a man of actions, and John knows that he has no chance of winning if he's stuck reacting.

"Hmm," John says, sliding his gaze away from Ronon's face and down the sleek slope of his chest to the tight mess of hair and the sharp line of his cock. He makes a show of concentrating, licking his lips in consideration as his fingers move up to stroke lightly across the head of Ronon's cock. John can feel Ronon's eyes on him, feel the slight tensing of the skin and muscle under his hands.

"Hmm," John says again, smiling, and bends his head to take Ronon into his mouth.

John takes him as deep as he can, sucking hard as the head presses against his throat. There's still room at the base for his hand, and he moves his fingers in tight, firm circles around the soft skin there. Ronon growls, a sound so low that mostly John feels it in the surge of his hips and the twitch of his cock under his tongue.

Ronon's hand clamps over John's shoulder, his fingers pressing through the thin fabric of John's shirt, and for a moment John worries that Ronon is going to try controlling his movements. John braces for the jolt of a sharp tug and the burn of too much pressure against the back of his throat, both of his hands gripping the sharp angles of Ronon's hips, but it never comes.

Ronon's hand stays steady on John's shoulder, holding them both in place with flexing fingers and firm pressure. John watches with growing interest as Ronon's other hand slides over the curve of his hip, fingers spreading through his pubic hair to press against the base of his cock.

Ronon's fingers tighten, changing the angle but not the depth. The head of his cock hits a new spot in John's throat, and it's not good but it's not bad and Ronon seems into it, all tight, sharp strokes and nails digging into John's skin through his shirt.

This is fast and hard and Ronon is more fucking John's mouth than anything, but it's _good_, and John is not about to just sit idly by. He digs his fingers into Ronon's hip and runs his other hand across the curve of his thigh to press up against Ronon's balls. John flexes his fingers and squeezes. Ronon grunts and tightens his on hold his shaft and thrusts harder.

John takes that as a sign of encouragement and does it again, this time with an extra little twist, and it's something like perfect timing because Ronon's hips surge once, twice and he comes with something like a whimper.

John goes for the easiest route and swallows as Ronon pushes him back slightly. John is thankful for the moment to catch his breath, and rests back on his heels. He watches Ronon standing in front of him, breathing hard and sweaty and with his pants still around his ankles. He shouldn't be intimidating like this, shouldn't be sexy like this, but he is and John's not sure how to feel about that.

"Thanks," Ronon says, and John would be offended or put off or _something_ if it weren't for the lazy way Ronon is smiling at him.

"You'll find a way to pay me back," John says, smirking, and pointedly ignores the hand Ronon stretches out to help him off his knees, "I'm sure."

John brushes past Ronon and heads for the door and a hot shower. He can feel Ronon's eyes on him as he laughs and says, "If you say so."

_*fin_


End file.
